The Shield
by HelionReign
Summary: They are three, the last line of defence between humanity and the arcane. They are The Shield. First in a three part series, first story so please be nice.


The Shield

Book One of Three

By – HelionReign

Prologue – The Agonies of Death

The days seemed to blend themselves into a morass of time, stress and blood shed for the world now. Ever since the first Lambert had been born, those of magical heritage and the ability to enter the arcane, so the world had been thrown into chaos

Lambert's, for this was the common name to which they were to address the users of magic, some as fearful as timid puppies, others drunk with their own power, all in some shape, form or way had contributed to the downfall of society in an eruption of power, arcane fury and death. Many of the countries, world wide, had failed to react when the Lambert trait had first become active, this was not to be said for the United Kingdom.

One this tiny little island had seen its empire scattered across the globe, controlled countries rebelling against the crown. Many had believed that this once powerful nation had grown PC and soft. However, the world would come to offer thanks to this island nation and her children once more when they arose from the ashes to control the Lambert outbreak.

Many had called this strikingly new and terrifying phenomenon an act of God, some had believed this the next step in human evolution, some called it a disease. Which ever the story be true all that was known was amidst the chaos Britain would rise once more to offer wisdom, power and strength to a world of madness. It was here, at the heart of the chaos, that Britain had devised the Ministry of Magic, a single, international station of research, control and force against the new magic users.

It was here that the Ministry devised _The Shield_. Believed by many to be the best warriors in all the five nations, The Shield were the last resort against the arcane wielders.

...

She sat alone, a bottle of half consumed Muggle Vodka complementing her evening as Hermione Jean Granger slowly drank herself into oblivion. Two other bottles had already been consumed and discarded, the stresses and agonies of her life to great for a single bottle to drown.

Around her neck hung the symbol of her station: The queens crown crossed by a sword and floral reef. This was the Sigil of The Shield, the top secret elite organisation designed to find, contain or kill rogue magic users.

Hermione scoffed at the badge of honour, fingering its chain as though contemplating its removal. This did not happen, however. Taking another large swig of alcohol Hermione began to reflect.

It was to be a simple capture mission, engage a newly formed Lambert, neutralise, stabilise and restore order. Armed with both arcane and Muggle weaponry the Shield had descended upon the lower east side of London where a elemental had spawned.

Frightened, tearful, screaming with fear and confusion, himself only a mere child, the elemental could not contain the great power which nature had now unleashed within him.

"This should be simple," Ron Weasley stated, the newest and most keen member of The Shield. Ron was a quintessential adrenalin junkie, he lived for the highs and thrills of combat. Before them a barricade of cars had been set up around the area to try and contain the young boy as, with a raising of his hands unleashed a torrent of flame towards the a number of stationary vehicle's, themselves mere bones in moments.

"What's happening? I want my Mum!" the little boy cried out, fear and sheer anguish in his voice as he wept tears of horror which dissolved at the moment they came. The boy still possessed the vague shape of a human, his young body unclothed though so much of him was consumed by flame that he looked little more than fire incarnate.

"I want my mum," Ron mocked in a horrible mock baby voice. "I'm going in."

"Ron, No!" Both the other members of The Shield, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter attempted to reach for their friend and partner but Ron had already cleared the vehicle and charged the young boy.

Despite his ability, the young child's sheer lack of control over his abilities put Ron in extreme danger. Realising that they had no other option, The Shield raced from the secure station and charged after Ron.

Unlike Harry or Hermione, Ron was not Lambert gifted, all he possessed was his wits, weapons and ability. The young boy screamed in fear and released a stream of fire towards the approaching Shield members. All leapt aside on instinct, dodging the stream of fire with only a hairs breathe between them, rolling along the ground and drawing their weapons.

Hermione held a single semi automatic 9mm Beretta, a practical and reliable weapon. The young boy gazed around him, saw that he was outnumbered, but fear fuelled his actions.

"I want my mum...!" the boy screamed, curling himself upon into an erect ball, fists clenched tight. The earth began to tremble with force.

"Waste him!" Ron shouted, himself aware of the sheer danger this child was, not only to himself or the community, but too The Shield. Tears streamed from the young boys eyes, they evaporated like desert water upon his face as he began to scream. Hermione readied herself weapon primed and aimed.

Hermione called out across the road towards the boy, seeking to install some reason into this terrified child; however it seemed the young man was beyond reason now, his mind cracked from terror. Gatherings of flickering flame gathered around his arms, his body draining himself of all Lambert energy for one final attack. The body screamed, thrust his hands towards Harry.

Emotion clouded Hermione's better judgement, fear, friendship, concern, all roiled within her soul to force her into action. She fired her weapon.

The bullet crashed into the young boys skull and opening the back of his head. The boy swayed, his fire element dissipated around him and he collapsed willowed and deceased to the earth before The Shield.

Disgust flooded Hermione's soul, self loathing and sorrow for the death she had just inflicted. She would not show it, but this was the first kill Hermione had made that emotionally hurt. Almost four long weeks had past since that day and Hermione still wept for the young man.

A light tapping sounded from the window behind her, as that of animal claws. Drawing a sigh from the young woman Hermione arose from her seat to sight a snowy owl scratching at her window. Hermione offered Hedwig a slight, unfelt smile before opening the window and allowing the bird entrance. The owl hooted affectionately and nibbled Hermione's fingers gently. A single scroll rested at the owls leg and Hermione untied the strip of leather which secured the scroll and offered Hedwig the refreshments of her own bird perch. Hedwig rustled her feathers in acceptance and fluttered towards the perch where food and water was always laid for both the snowy owl and Ron's tiny Pigwidgeon.

Hermione opened the letter and began to read.


End file.
